Fool's Gold
by Cassie E
Summary: Slight AU. Flynn's island is not as uninhabited as he'd hoped.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Fool's Gold: Part 1  
>Summary: Slight AU. After their near death drowning experience in the caves, Flynn Rider is slightly horrified to find that he is having the most dreaded thing of all…feelings for a magical haired girl. Feeling cornered, he finds an opportunity to make his "dream" come true by giving Rapunzel the slip to make it to his island.<p>

Rating: T  
>Word Count: 4,935<br>Warnings: Some violence, mild language, a depressed chameleon, a murderous monkey, and rum.

Prompt: Before his transformation to Eugene, Flynn manages to give Rapunzel the slip and makes it to his island. It's not as uninhabited as he'd hoped. Hilarity ensues.

Author's Notes: This is my first Tangled fic. It was written for the Tangled Fic Exchange hosted by the wonderfully talented Airplane. I decided to add an additional day before Rapunzel's birthday/lantern event given that prompt had Flynn to sneaking away before becoming Eugene.

Pascal ended up being more in the story than originally planned. This was supposed to be a longer story, but I had to edit down to a one shot—since the muse was being finicky and my insomnia got the best of me, along with my migraines. Many thanks to my beta, Jebbypal as always!

Sprog is pirate slang for buffoon.

"I have dreams like you _no really_  
>Just much less touchy-<em>feely <em>  
>They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny<br>On an island that I own  
>Tanned and rested and alone<br>Surrounded by enormous piles of _money_!"

-Flynn Rider, I Have a Dream

Flynn Rider was unsettled, which to be honest, he rarely was. His joie de vivre never permitted him to brood for too long; besides he had places to be, things to steal, cons to pull and many woman to charm out of their precious jewels and other _assets_.

He was used to being cornered, thieves usually found themselves in such a position after all. Whether the cornering was being done by guards, murderous thugs or angry, cuckolded husbands; Flynn always had a plan b, a short cut, an escape. But ever since he stumbled into that tower in the middle of that glen, Flynn has watched his avenue of escape narrowing for the first time in his life.

This time his escape had been an island—not just any island, his island. But to get to that island, stealing the crown had been on his immediate list of things to do. His last hurrah so to speak before he took his extended hiatus from his criminal career by sipping on coconuts and working on his tan. However; he never expected to have his plans inconvenienced by a petite young woman, with enormous quantities of hair, wielding a frying pan and her menacing pet frog-thing. Especially since she held his stolen goods hostage until he completed the ridiculous task of taking her to see a bunch of floating lanterns.

Flynn didn't know what annoyed him more, the fact that he was bested by girl who probably didn't weigh 100 pounds wet (well, maybe her hair did) or the fact that he nearly died escaping the King's guards and his former cohorts, the Stabbington's. Next time he would be pickier about his choice of associates—some people just can't let things go, case of sour grapes and all. Oh and that horse too, that damn horse who chased him like the devil's hellhound in pursuit of his soul.

"_Your dream stinks!"_ Ha, like viewing a bunch of lights was any better. Rolling his eyes at the memory of Hookhand's comment as he turned on his side, he found himself staring at the individual who had entered his life literally by a whack of a frying pan. His head throbbed, a dull ache in response of the painful memory. Rapunzel laid curled up, sleeping quite cozily nestled in her makeshift blanket of hair. She had even made a small pillow out of a mini mountain of her golden locks. Flynn envied her peaceful slumber. His clothes were still slightly damp from their watery near death experience in the cave which had caused him to start shivering after their campfire had died a couple of hours ago.

The moonlight gave her strands a silvery golden sheen, a gentle breeze caressed a few strands out of place, and for a moment, Flynn was taken back at how beautiful she was. Just like the first time when she walked into the light and revealed herself to him in that damnable tower.

Perversely, Flynn imagined all the ways he could warm himself up next to his sleeping companion. He thought of her slender frame, those pink lips and those damnable cute freckles dashed about her face or those green eyes, big and trusting—

"_For the record, I like Eugene Fitzherbert better than Flynn Rider."_

Damn! There it was. That was the crux of his sleepless night. The memory of the warmth of acceptance that had filled him when Rapunzel said those simple words sent Flynn into a panic afterwards. The endearing way she scooted closer to him to hear his sad little story of growing up as an orphan boy dreaming of bigger things left him vulnerable, and the part of himself that Flynn had locked away years ago was poking it's no-good trusting head out. Damn Eugene. When she told him the reason why she never left the tower and how she considered going back, Eugene wanted to take her in his arms and…and….

_No! No! Not going to happen, buddy!_ Flynn told his alter ego. It was bad enough he let the loser get so far by telling her his name and getting all emotional. Bah! Flynn Rider did not do any of this touchy feely crap. And no, he wasn't crazy because he was thinking about himself in third person. Crazy and extremely good looking did not go together.

Maybe the hair had done something to him after all. Flynn's eyes widened at the thought.

A tiny growl distracted Flynn from his inner identity crisis. There was a slight movement underneath a second mini-pile of hair next to Rapunzel, and a second later, Flynn's gaze met with that of the thing-creature, Pascal. The chameleon stuck out its tongue at the insult, glaring at the thief almost as if he was able to read Flynn's mind. He returned the scowl back and mouthed to the annoying reptile, "Bite me."

Pascal hissed back, narrowing his beady little eyes—the reflection of the moon made them gleam disturbingly in the night. Flynn could tell it had turned a slight shade of red. It retorted back with a shrill chirp. Then the thing did the most unnerving thing it could do, it smiled at Flynn. Just like it did when they had first reached the riverbank and Flynn had almost freaked out that Goldie had hair that glowed. The same little smirk it wore when watching as Rapunzel healed his hand.

A smile that said, "You are clever and amazingly handsome, but I am a genius and you are so owned. Just wait and see." At the end of this, a sinister chuckle had followed.

The thing didn't actually say that, but Flynn was pretty sure it would have if chameleons could talk. He shot Pascal one last dirty look before he turned over on his other side, his mind still not eased. If he were the fanciful sort, he would probably be feeling his heart tugging in the direction of those sad, green eyes. His inner Eugene sighed.

Flynn shook his head. He was crazy. He had spent the last few minutes locked into a scowling contest with a reptile.

Maybe it was the fact that he nearly almost died a few hours ago or that he had spent most of the night in a mind battle with his second identity, in the end, being threatened by a frog was the last deciding factor. Eugene was going back in his box along with his crazy feelings and ideas. He was Flynn Rider, damnit and he had dream!

At the first light of dawn, Flynn blearily opened his eyes, and then jumped up as he remembered his decision from last night. He winced at the protests of his still sleeping muscles protested. He didn't have much time to waste; the plan was to be gone before Blondie woke up and got a chance to stare up at him with those eager, green eyes and change his mind.

Not that she could. Nope. He was made of stronger stuff than to fall for predictable feminine wiles.

Flynn yawned and rubbed his hands over his eyes. He touched his newly-healed hand and couldn't stop being amazed at the unblemished skin. Magic hair, huh? Who would have thought?

His hand dropped onto his satchel, but it landed on air before he remembered that it was still being held in the tower. Pushing back a wave of irritation at his predicament, he glanced over to make sure Rapunzel was still asleep. The gentle fall and rise of her form indicated she slept soundly. Her dark lashes fluttered briefly and Flynn froze.

False alarm – her eyes moved rapidly beneath her lids; briefly, he wondered if she was dreaming.

Again, there was a nagging prickly feeling that was probably his conscience. She would be alright. The girl was bright and resourceful, plus she had that wicked frying pan. So she was locked in a tower her whole life by an overbearing mother. Which made her innocent and too curious for her own good and people would take advantage of that. Thieves and thugs…

Flynn forced himself to stop. He couldn't be responsible for some girl, even if she was pretty and was maybe growing on him. With a regretful sigh, he kneeled down and gently brushed back a loose strand of hair from her face. "I am sorry, Goldie. I..I am sorry. I hope you find your dream."

Walking away, Flynn didn't look back as he found the trail in the woods that would lead into the kingdom. Eugene would have looked back, but he wasn't Eugene Fitzherbert. He hadn't been for a very long time. It didn't escape his notice that he had to keep reminding himself of that very fact. He pushed forward, his boots stepping quietly onto the dewy path to his freedom.

One of the lessons he learned in his thieving field was never to do extra work when you could get others to do it for you. Sometimes this could back-fire, Flynn learned, like with the Stabbingtons. After all, people didn't like to be used and then discarded. But really, while he could have stolen the ship on his own , he couldn't operate it by himself. Well, he could, but did he really want to?

Nope.

However, as he made his way to the docks, he found it was a good thing he'd lost his most recent companion. The patrol had doubled since his theft of the crown, plus with the preparations for the festival mourning/celebrating the lost princess, the guards were now on high alert for any mischief afoot. Especially mischief with any blonde, green-eyed girls, since many a con artist had tried passing off girls as the lost princess in the past. And all had failed miserably.

All the more reason to deal with shiny equity that could be sold on the black market (without talking back), and thus making it harder to trace back. Girls were too much trouble anyway, especially blondes with green eyes and pet chameleons.

He got to the docks without a hitch, with one exception. Girls held grudges. He had forgotten that until the blade of a very sharp sword nicked the skin at his throat. "Rider," hissed an angry female.

"Hey, Thereasa, babe,long time no see! Whoa, watch it, not near the face, that's where the magic happens," Flynn grimaced at the Captain of the _Marigold_. The _Marigold_ tried to pass itself off as respectable trader vessel, but underneath all the gloss and shine, it was all a front for the ship's sweet trading ventures. Piracy was at an all time high, however; most pirates avoided using Corona as a port. Unless they carried "papers" that could fool the guards into thinking they were legit and charm them into not asking too many questions.

Theresa Maria Consuela del Calderon was one of those charismatic pirates and the current captain of the _Marigold_. She was a tall young woman hailing from the southern countries, dark skinned, full lips with curly brunette hair that was almost a shade from being ebony. Dark eyes flashed at Flynn as he smiled at her, despite his perilous situation.

"I have waited a long time to your face, again, Rider."

Flynn shrugged, still managing to smile, winked at her, "Naturally, of course. It's irresistible."

In general, Flynn avoided pirates, they were a disgruntled lot and they tended to smell bad—like the pub thugs at the Duckling. He especially avoided pirates who he had charmed in the past (and who were exception to the smelly rule). Also, he had a rule about avoiding those he may have stolen from, yeah; pirates don't take too kindly to that. Despite the irony in the situation, Flynn totally got it, he wouldn't like that either. Not that he ever let anyone steal from him.

Except Blondie.

He frowned at the persistence of her name in his thoughts. Flynn forced his mind to focus on his imminent death. Yet again. It was a good thing this would be a thing of the past once he was on his island.

The sword pressed harder for a moment at his neck before the pressure at his neck dropped down to between his legs. Flynn's eyebrows rose up in disbelief, "Now that is just mean, Theresa!"

Theresa Maria smirked—pushing the cutlass in further, "That's Captain to you, _squiffy_!"

Flynn squirmed as he tried to shift away from the steel blade at his nether parts. "Name-calling now, I thought we were past this…hey ow, that hurts! Easy now, look we are both professionals, right? Let's make a deal. Help each other out."

The captain of the Marigold scoffed, "Now why would I trust the likes of you, after last time?"

Flynn pointed to his face, "Irresistible, remember. "He tried the smolder, which was quite a feat considering his man parts were in grave danger. The look required extra concentration, it was serious business

"What the devil is wrong with him," asked one of the crew mates, a large bald headed, Theresa called John. "His face is all funny."

Flynn felt his smolder sizzle out. Blondie must have jinxed him and single-handedly broken his smolder.

Theresa laughed, "I always thought he was a bit soft. In more ways than one."

"Lies," Flynn exclaimed and he narrowed his eyes, "Is all this necessary?"

Theresa Maria shrugged, "Be thankful I am in a good mood at the moment, thief."

"That's the pot calling the kettle, eh," Flynn pointed at her, "It's not like you are really a lady—easy, easy! Look, do you want to hear my deal or not? "

Sometimes the past came to bite you in the ass. It had a tendency to happen in his profession quite a bit, which was why he presently found himself on the verge of being walked off into the ocean and a cutlass in groin again He offered a deal for transport in exchange for a portion of his stash of gold on the island. They had been sailing for a good couple of hours before the _Marigold_'s captain and crew had turned on their paying passenger.

Flynn said. "Not this again. Can't you point that elsewhere."

"I find it amusing."

Flynn argued back,"We had a deal! Don't you all have a code?"

"Of course, yes, we did…except the part where I lied and you believed me. Life has an uncanny way of reaping what you sow, Rider," Theresa Maria said gleefully, "I really can't believe you fell for it. You are usually better than this. So very disappointing in a way, right, boys? "

The crew of the Marigold shouted in agreement. "Make him walk!"

Flynn sighed. She was right. It had been too easy to convince the captain of the Marigold to take the deal.

"So this is what comes down to, after all the times we've had," Flynn said before another sharp poke interrupted him, "OW. That is a very delicate area!"

"You stole from me!"

"That was what, five years ago? Technically I stole from your father. You should really let that go, Theresa, grudges aren't healthy. You get all wrinkly with the frowning. And a woman like yourself out in the sun," Flynn paused and pointed to her forehead, "needs to take care of her complexion."

"Shut up! My father trusted you…"

Flynn grinned, "Now see, I didn't hear you complaining…"

Theresa Marie scowled at him, "I have a very long memory, Rider. You didn't think you could charm your way out of this, did you?"

"I stick to my strengths," Flynn shrugged, "it worked before. Why fix what isn't broken, eh?"

"We live by a code, Rider. And I have bided my time waiting for the right moment to repay you."

His stomach lurched as ship rocked against the waves, but he managed to keep both his balance and the small breakfast he had pilfered on his way to the shipping docks.

Another reason to avoid pirates, the whole being on a ship business made for a bad case of seasickness. "Ah, yes, the code. You know what I never understood that, being a pirate and having rules. I think that's why I prefer thieving on land."

"We know why you prefer land, coward," the Captain of _Marigold_ sniggered, "You were always the eternal _sprog. _Now as much as I would enjoy chatting, I think it's time you start walking."

Flynn held up his hands, "Now look, can't we parley or whatever it is you call it? You can't just drop me in the middle of the ocean. We aren't even close to the coordinates… Have a heart."

The sea air whipped the captain's hair to match her fury, "Our parley ended the minute you thought I would help get you to your bloody island. As much as I would enjoy returning you to Corona so you could dance the hempen jig for your crimes making you walk the plank is much more amusing. I hope you can swim."

"Oh stop being melodramatic…and isn't that a double standard, you are a pirate!" The words died on his lips as the crew of the _Marigold_ pointed their cutlasses and pistols in his direction. "Really? Fine." Damn pirates.

Flynn jumped on the plank. Faintly in the distance he spotted the gleaming sandy shores of an abandoned island. He restrained a smile. "Well, I guess it will have to do. You know, if I get eaten by cannibals, it will be your fault. Don't cry for me too much."

Theresa Maria smiled, "Cannibals are the least of your worries, sharks on the other hand. Well, at least you aren't bleeding…yet." She whistled up at the mainmast of the ship; in response, a furry dark form scurried down. It screeched as it moved down to the port's floor and up on the plank.

Flynn stared in shock as the monkey wearing a tiny greatcoat climbed around his leg and in one quick movement slashed a dagger across his pant leg. Before he could kick the thing away, it ran away to perch itself on the captain's shoulder. As the sting of the cut set in, Flynn's open mouth snapped shut and yelped, "You bitch!"

The monkey stuck out its tongue at Flynn and gleefully laughed. Theresa Maria laughed, "Well now, I hope you are fast swimmer, Flynn." She petted the monkey's head and cooed, "That's a good girl, Dolly."

"Now walk, you have until the count of three, Rider. Or you won't have to worry about the sharks after all. One…"

Flynn hated getting wet, especially ocean water, it played havoc with his hair. He sighed, well, things couldn't be worse, right? He had been in tighter corners before. Something wiggled in his vest pocket, drawing his attention downwards just as Theresa Maria said two. Flynn frowned as he felt the movement again. "What the hell?" His hand dug in the pocket and dragged the stowaway out by its green tail.

"YOU!"

Pascal turned a dark red as he stuck out his tongue and poked Flynn in the eye.

"Ah!" Flynn yelled along with Pascal as he lost his balance and fell into the ocean's embrace.

"Three," Theresa Maria peered overboard with the_ Marigold_'s crew. Dolly clapped her hands in delight and chattered happily on her shoulder. The captain smiled, "I know, wasn't that fun, my dear girl?"

Paradise did not receive Flynn Rider well as he washed up ashore.

His face felt like he was lying on sandpaper. Salt clung to his lips and was even gritted on his teeth and hair. The wound on his leg stung fiercely and throbbed in protest of the swimming required to get to the island. Distances were deceiving and he might have dozed off the moment he felt land between his fingers. Something cold and wet stuck itself in his ear; forcing Flynn to open his eyes to find Pascal defiantly sticking his long pink tongue in his ear canal. "Ahh!"

Pascal squeaked, letting go, and quickly moved away enough to avoid being slapped away. He growled at the thief, lifting his little paws into little fists.

"YOU, what are you doing here! How did you…oh you are so evil! You are supposed to be with Goldie!"

Pascal chirped angrily in reply and pointed to Flynn and then back out to the sea.

"No, you are supposed to be with her! I mean, she needs...someone. She's going to be upset when you're not there. She's…going to be alone." Flynn didn't like the uncomfortable dip his stomach took at the thought.

Pascal turned blue at the thought and hiccupped a little cry of distress.

"You…I…damnit. Fucking hell, I can't believe I am talking to a frog." Flynn sighed, shaking his head, "You don't get it, she-deserves someone better. And you know, I had a dream too and she just came out of nowhere…"

Pascal rolled his eyes and gave him a disbelieving look.

"Ok, so technically, I came out of nowhere, but that's not the point."

The chameleon croaked back, nodding his head that yes, it was the point.

"Okay, so we have established that I'm a selfish bastard. Now the point is that you can go back over there with her. However that maybe, and stay the hell away from me." He drew line across the sand with toe, "See this line? You don't cross it."

Flynn walked away, grinning because his plan had worked, despite some minor setbacks, bruises and an unwanted lizard. Because he had purposely misled the crew of the _Marigold_ by giving them the wrong coordinates. He had suspected that Theresa Maria would still be sore after their dalliance many years ago—so he knew she would want to pull off a stunt like this. However, Flynn knew she wasn't heartless enough to drop him in the middle of ocean without there being a way to swim ashore and survive on his own merit. Pirates were funny that way, with their damn codes like badges of honor.

Expect the unexpected. Always have a backup plan. In this case, it turned out pretty damn well. Flynn whistled and chanced a glance behind. Pascal sat in the sand, all blue and pathetic, staring out into the ocean in direction of Corona, mourning the presence of his owner who was half a day's sail away.

A twinge of regret pushed its way to the surface. Sighing, Flynn turned and walked back to depressed lizard. If he hadn't left, it never would have followed him. So maybe, he owed the little guy, just this once. Beside, nobody was around to see this very Eugene-like moment. "I can't believe I am doing this. Hey, Pascal."

Pascal sniffed sadly in response and if Flynn didn't know any better he could swear the thing was crying.

Flynn crossed his arms. "So look, we are here now, may as well make the best of it. Goldie… wouldn't want you to be sad. Come on, you can hang with me. Rules are pretty much no tongue sticking in my ears, eyes etc."

Pascal chirped and nodded back to the ocean. He shifted into the exact shade of purple of Rapunzel's dress.

Flynn felt that bothersome vulnerability peek out for a minute, more he squashed it back down. "She will be fine. I am sure Blondie—look she's a smart girl, right?"

Pascal nodded in agreement.

"So, nothing to worry about, right," Flynn kneeled down to the chameleon's level, his palm extended out in peace. Pascal looked at Flynn dubiously, sighed (yes, this lizard sighed) and scampered onto the thief's hand. Flynn returned the chameleon to its original hiding place in his vest pocket. Now if he remembered correctly, his hut should be westward from the beach. And not too far from it was the loot he had stolen five years ago from Ana Maria's father. Flynn Rider resumed his whistling of _I have a dream_ as he walked in direction of his new home. He would find a way to build his own castle. He was nothing if resourceful.

"You are going to love it here. I scouted this place a long while ago. We might even find you a girlfriend, eh? A nice lady lizard."

_3 hours later…_

After getting lost for the better part of the remaining day, his feet sore and blistered from the heat of the sand, and stumbling into a crab pit, which lead to getting pinched and poked in all the wrong places, Flynn Rider was beginning to think that maybe living on an island was overrated.

But the deciding factor would have to have been when he went to cool his feet in the ocean, only to step on a jellyfish. The jellyfish and Flynn were not amused, not one bit. There was a very shrill shriek of pain that carried through the small island. Now not only his leg stung from the wound inflicted by that treacherous fur ball, but his foot ached as well, slowing his progress considerably.

Worse, when they found hiding spot of the chest of gold he had stolen from Captain Roberto five years ago, it had been empty. After a fifteen minutes of cursing, which briefly made Pascal blush a pinkish red, Flynn came to acceptance. What could he do with all that gold besides probably throw up it in the air and dance around it? Not like he could buy anything with it on the damn island, which would be first. Thieves were after all, thieves. Flynn always tried to work with what he had or go steal something better if it wasn't, but at least he had his island.

Even if it meant for the gold to be gone meant that someone had been on the island at some point in time Yet he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that they were being watched.

The sun beat down fiercely on the small island; the humidity had to be one of the most unpleasant things that Flynn had chance to experience in his life. Sweating was not an attractive look for him. Sweat dripped everywhere, re-awakening his stinging wounds with fresh salt. Half an hour ago, he had shrugged off his shirt and vest. Pascal traveled comfortably on top of his head. He was glad there would be no witnesses to this event. The chameleon still wore the color purple, which he suspected was intended to make Flynn feel guilty.

They found relief beneath the shade of the crowded meadow of palm trees. A few feet away, he managed to make out the frame of the hut. "Yes, see, I told you we were close." Flynn ignored the fact that he had said this an hour ago.

As they neared, he saw that the hut was more run down than he remembered. The roof had almost completely been caved in from storms. "It.. just needs a little care."

Pascal climbed down from his perch on his head and studied the shelter in detail.

"So what to do you think, homey, eh?" The moment Flynn said that, the rest of the palmed roof collapsed as a cool breeze filtered through the trees. The lizard looked at Flynn, waited a beat and shook his head. "Oh come on, it's a fixer upper. At least it's not going to rain anytime soon," he said confidently. In the distance, thunder rumbled as ominous clouds rolled towards the island.

Pascal stared at the sky and then looked at Flynn again, his expression dubious.

Flynn growled in annoyance. "Look, I know what you are trying say, and-I have my own island to myself. My own hut, kind of. My own beach! All to myself. Alone. With my treasure, which is stolen, but I have other stuff hidden around here somewhere, which I don't remember at the moment, but I WILL eventually. "

Pascal chirped, rolling his eyes.

The realization hit him as he said it, "Oh God, I am just like Blondie," Flynn face palmed his face, "I am stuck here, alone, talking to you! You are not even human!" Maybe the hair healing really had induced a temporary insanity. Since when had he ever plotted such an ill-prepared getaway? The old Flynn would have scouted the place first, stocked up on supplies, maybe persuaded a pretty brunette or two to come along for company. Instead, he had been bruised, stabbed, nearly drowned, and attacked by scorned pirate queens and Mother Nature . And all this trouble for what? Just because he was afraid of warm, fuzzy feelings for a young woman he met two days ago?

Pascal hissed and squeaked in his direction, but he wasn't paying attention to the chameleon.

"Ok, ok, so maybe this isn't the best dream on execution. Can you quit it, I get it. This was not my best idea." Flynn heard a whistling sound before he felt a pinch on his neck. "Ow." Moving his hands to his neck he discovered a dart. His vision blurred as he pulled the dart out, was that a monkey? Why was the monkey holding a coconut? Coconuts were quite delicious, he was very hungry. With a crack against his skull, the small mammal sent him on his way to oblivion.

TBC in Part 2


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Fool's Gold: Part 2  
>Summary: Slight AU. After their near death drowning experience in the caves, Flynn Rider is slightly horrified to find that he is having the most dreaded thing of all…feelings for a magical haired girl. Feeling cornered, he finds an opportunity to make his "dream" come true by giving Rapunzel the slip to make it to his island.<p>

Rating: T/R  
>Word Count: 5,753<br>Warnings: Some violence, mild language, a depressed chameleon, a murderous monkey, silliness and rum.

Prompt: Before his transformation to Eugene, Flynn manages to give Rapunzel the slip and makes it to his island. It's not as uninhabited as he'd hoped. Hilarity ensues.

Author's Notes: Split into 2 parts, due to length. Gracious thanks to Jebbypal who helped me with my writer's block with this opening scene. And many thanks to Airplane for his patience in letting me finish this fic.

Flynn decided this would be the perfect time for an escape. Given that he was tied up against a tree and blind folded. His head hurt like motherf—and his mouth was dry, tasting of cotton threads and something metallic, blood no doubt, given the whack of the coconut against face. Which was big no-no, he hoped it hadn't broken his nose.

He felt his shirt and vest back on. Someone must have dressed him while he was out.

He still wasn't sure if he'd imagined the monkey or not. If he hadn't, he definitely didn't know what he had done to earn nature's wrath against him. Attacked by monkeys twice in one day, and that's not even counting the other hostile species that he had encountered on the journey. Flynn was a nice handsome guy. What was there not to love? He was supposed to be sipping on coconuts, not being knocked out by them.

Maybe this was karma for leaving Blondie behind. Yes, he was jerk. The universe was laughing at his expense. If the pub thugs could see him now, Hookhand would say, "I told you so," and then gut him for leaving Rapunzel alone and defenseless.

Despite it all, he missed her.

So his dream did stink. However, he could still turn it around, if he got out of this alive.

A rough movement tore the blind fold off and Flynn blinked as the sudden light of a fire that blinded him for a minute. Night had fallen. How long was he out for? As his vision cleared, he saw a beautiful woman with black hair and brown eyes smiling at him.

Flynn let his jaw drop, "Am I dead?"

The woman laughed as she lifted a bowl of water to his parched lips.

"More rum, please!"

He was in paradise; all along Flynn knew there had to be silver lining to this whole ordeal. Sure, his new companions probably were the ones that had uncovered his treasure, but he could share with the right sort of _company._ The more the merrier_._ "Cheers, ladies," Flynn lifted his golden chalice adorned with rubies and emeralds in the air. A giggling, curvaceous brunette sidled up beside him and poured more rum into the chalice. Man, he loved brunettes and rum. And rumps, he thought, fondly sneaking a pinch on the brunette's. She squealed in delight and playfully slapped his hand away. The girl shook her finger at him and sashayed to the group of women seated around the bonfire, where a wild pig roasted on a spit.

Flynn grinned in content, "This is the best dream ever!" An island inhabited by some of the most beautiful women he had ever seen was almost surreal. Even better it was his island. The lack of title was just a minor nuance. An exquisite red head, Valeria, offered a bowl of fruit up to him, "More fruit, Flynn? The pineapple is quite sweet." Her smile was inviting as she plopped a piece in his mouth. In his decreasing sobriety, her voice sounded lyrical and it strangely lingered in the air. It made his head hurt a bit, but he wrote it off on the rum and the day's activities.

"We are terribly sorry for the way we greeted you earlier. You must understand, we are women, alone on this island. The tide can be quite treacherous in who it brings our way. We take certain measures for our own safety. You must forgive, Henri,"she indicated to the monkey seated near the bonfire.

"Oh, yeah, no hard feelings. You are lucky I am a forgiving sort of man," Flynn winked at her and took another piece of fruit from the bowl. "You ladies have already treated me like a king," he pointed to the bandages on his injuries, "It's all good."

It did cross Flynn's mind that if Rapunzel was here, his wounds would be nonexistent. Not that he would take advantage of her that way, well, maybe in other ways. Her face came unbidden in his mind. For a second he regretted not persuading her to come with him. He wondered if she would like the ocean. As excited as she got over rocks, she would love the sea shells. Wait, why the hell was he thinking about Goldie? Speaking of her, where was the frog? He had lost track of him after coconut incident. "Flynn," Valeria questioned, "I asked you if you were okay?"

"Huh?"

"You seemed preoccupied, thinking of a lost love?"

Flynn smirked and shook his head, "Not exactly. Just a girl I know."

Valeria interest piqued, she asked, "So there is woman? Tell me about her."

"She is…she is like a…whack to the head- I never met anyone quite like her."

"Is she prettier than me?" the older woman teased, flipping her hair back.

"She's cute, I guess—she's got these big green eyes. Anyway, like I said it's-"Flynn started, frowning, his head hurt a lot. A sharp humming sound nagged at him, melding with the chanting some of the women around the bonfire had begun to sing. Their voices were lovely, hypnotic. Flynn felt dizzy. He wasn't a light weight, but maybe it's time he called it a night with the rum. His whole body felt funny, numb and not the fun kind of numb that came from being drunk. "This must be some proof; this rum packs quite a punch."

Valeria continued, "My eyes are green, are hers like mine?"

"Huh," Flynn looked at her, his gaze a bit hazy. The woman's eyes glittered green like emeralds. Too bright, was that even normal? They were inviting and he felt like falling in them and staying forever. He shook his head to clear the persisting drumming sound. To get her off his back, Flynn decided to tell her what she wanted to hear. "No. Yours are…more beautiful.

Valeria preened, "You are quite gracious. A shame most men are not like you."

"I know, right! I am a one of kind, beautiful."

Valeria gave him a beguiling smile in return. "We hope our festivities will make you feel more welcome and make up for such a poor welcome. You are our** honored** guest tonight."Flynn puffed up at the accolade and was compelled to take another gulp from his chalice. His rum vision enjoyed the view of two women that began to dance to the song that was sung in a language he did not know. It wasn't the normal dances seen in Corona either; these dances were uninhibited and frantic. His vision spun briefly before a flash of purple near some bushes caught his attention. The frog.

"Excuse me; I got to use the facilities. Be right back."

Valeria nodded, taking a sip from her own cup. "We shall be here waiting for you."

A few minutes of stumbling and tripping over a dried palm tree branch made Flynn lose his sense of direction. It's not like he had seen actually seen the lizard. He had been walking a good while and still no sign of the little bastard. Flynn could still hear the faint sounds and laughter from the bonfire. The rum was some of best he had in a while and oddly sweet. Even now he craved it with a strange intensity that almost made him turn back for more.

The night had cooled considerably and made for a pleasant evening. Flynn could hear the crash of waves against the shore, so they weren't too far inland. Finding a good spot near a palm tree, he set about his business when something dropped on his head.

Flynn uttered an undignified yelp and slapped the thing away, but it had good grip on his hair. A pink tongue zipped down and into his nose, revealing the creature's identity. He grabbed the tongue, pulled his attacker off his head with a sharp tug and glared at it. A purple Pascal glared back, though the effect was ruined as Flynn still held the chameleon's tongue.

Switching his grip from the front to the tail, Flynn shook the lizard, "What did I tell you about doing that? And have you— I swear Blondie did not teach you any manners. "

Pascal chirped and pointed in the direction of the ocean urgently.

"Look I am not going back. You on the other hand are free to go. This place is better than I expected. You won't believe the women here," Flynn added lecherously, "I am going to be a very lucky man tonight."

Pascal shook his head and hissed. It made a motion of fangs with his feet and pointed in direction of the camp.

Flynn rolled his eyes, losing patience. Obviously the thing had no concept of the duties of a wingman. Damn, he was dying of thirst for that rum. The need to return to the camp grew stronger."Look, pal, as much as I would love to stay here and play charades with you, that was Goldie's thing. So how about you make the best of this situation and go eat some flies or something."

Pascal stilled, changing tactics and smiled (which still was unnerving as hell) at Flynn. He shifted into a brilliant color of yellow and pointed towards the brush behind them.

"What? What are yo—oh, you found something?"

Pascal nodded in agreement.

"Gold? My gold? Ah, I wondered where they were keeping it," Flynn pondered. He glanced back to the camp, and just as he decided that gold could wait, Pascal twirled his body upwards to bite Flynn's finger. The chameleon's teeth were tiny, but still sharp enough to cause an unpleasant pinch.

"Ow, you are so dead," Flynn exclaimed, dropping the offending lizard to the ground. Cradling his hand, he lifted his foot to put the chameleon out of his misery, but Pascal scurried toward the overgrown brush. Flynn ran after him. The chase ended in a small clearing with a small cave in the middle. The clearing was lit by several torches were lit around, and garlands of white flowers were draped around the cave's mouth. Pascal was waiting patiently at the entrance. Flynn gasped, winded and braced himself on his knees. Intrigued, Flynn pushed back his murderous impulse and strode inside. "Don't think this is going to get you off the hook. You are nowhere near as attractive as the women back there." Inside, the cave was lit with miniature torches at the entrance. He stumbled forward, the rum still in effect. Pascal led the way at a safe distance. It didn't take long to see a sight that took his breath away.

Mountainsof gold. Coins, goblets, and even a crown or two.

Flynn's jaw dropped, greed shining in his eyes. He took a fistful of coins and let them fall through his fingers. "Okay, so I take that back. You are so forgiven! I knew you were good for something."

The chameleon sighed and squeaked, its tail pointed to a dark corner in the cave.

"More?" Flynn walked towards the back and shone his light into the shadows. His excitement at his discovery turned into horror pretty quickly. "Oh..."

The torchlight revealed a macabre scene of an equally impressive mountain of bones and skulls. A rat peeked out of an eye socket of one skull that still had some hanging scraps of hair. Was that decaying flesh? Something wet glimmered on a nearby ribcage.

Flynn fought the urge to gag and scowled down at Pascal. "I hate you."

Pascal growled back, insulted.

"You couldn't let me enjoy this, could you?"

A tongue flicked back out in an insolent response.

Flynn knew he could do one of two things. He could handle this calmly and like a man. Or he could freak out and run screaming for his life. Unfortunately, alcohol clouded his judgment and leaned toward the latter.

"I am not going to freak out. Flynn Rider does freak out. I am a man, damnit, he said firmly, and then a second later he lost it.

"…Iamtohandsometodie,"Flyn wailed as he slid down on the floor. Fuck. Fuck. In what reality is a deserted island inhabited by beautiful, willing women? Never. Only in dreams, stupid misguided dreams that stunk almost as badly as the stench of death in that cave. After a bit, Pascal crawled up Flynn's leg to his shoulder and bit an earlobe.

"Godda-,"Flynn pulled him off and brought the fiendish chameleon into his view. Pascal bristled and shifted to red. They glared at each other before a moment of sobriety put things into perspective for Flynn. Here he was stranded on an island inhabited by, possibly, man-eating women and arguing with a lizard. "Okay, you're right, priorities. Escape. We will be escaping."

Pascal shifted back to his normal green, signifying a truce, and nodded his agreement.

Standing, Flynn placed his ally back in his vest pocket and made his way out. On his way, he snagged a fistful of coins and rings. He shoved them in his pants pocket. Pascal shot him a scolding look.

"What? You do realize what I do for living, right? It may come in handy."

He placed the torch back on the wall, and erased any trace of footsteps near the entrance to eliminate any sign of their presence. Flynn peered out, making sure the coast was clear before dashing across the glen and back into the forest of palm trees and island vegetation. They quickly made their way to the shore given that speed was more important stealth. Due to the rum, Flynn had lost track of how long he had been away from the camp - undoubtedly, Valeria would send a search party to look for him.

Upon reaching the beach, the pair's lack of transportation off the damn island slapped him in the face. When he'd buried his loot, he'd kept a spare boat in case he bored of island living, but given his luck, he wouldn't bet on its continued existence or sea-worthiness. Still, it was all they had, so he closed his eyes, breathed deep, and fought to remember the location of the boat's hiding place. The cool night air helped clear his mind from the heady intoxication of the rum.

East. He was pretty sure of it.

Right before he took off in that direction, a familiar voice calling his name stopped him cold. Flynn felt his stomach drop and his mind flashed back to pile of bones in the cave. He swallowed hard before composing himself with his unflappable smile and turned around. "Hey gorgeous? I was looking for you."

Valeria eyed him suspiciously; a gentle breeze molded her simple shift dress against her body. "We were looking for you. You were gone for so long, we grew worried."

Flynn forced himself not to get distracted. Priorities. Escape or he was very dead man. "I got lost. It's a big island."

Valeria replied, "Not really. Why did you come out so far from the camp? It's in the complete opposite direction."

"You caught me. I am a hopeless romantic and…I love a good moonlit stroll. Care to join?"

Valeria smiled, stepping forward and firmly pulling him along back to the direction of the camp, "I would love to, but the ceremony is about to start. You must come."

Flynn wasn't going to panic. He'd escaped worse thousands of times before. This was a minor setback. "Ceremony? What's the occasion?"

Valeria chuckled, her laughter like chiming bells that made his head hurt, "You are, my dear. You are honored guest, silly."

He was a dead man.

Normally one had to be asleep for nightmares, but this one was an exception.

That or he was really, really drunk. He was never going to drink again. EVER.

Which is how he found himself at an altar surrounded by the women he had been admiring earlier; usually in his dreams, this was part where Flynn would enjoy a very happy ending.

But reality was a nightmare that he couldn't wake up from, no matter how many times he tried pinching himself.

"We are gathered here, sisters, to join in matrimony with our husband to be, Flynn Rider."

By this time, Flynn had given up the act of playing along with this ridiculous scheme. His eyes were probably the size of saucers. He searched for avenues of escape, but he was well surrounded and all exits blocked. Some of the women had been stationed at the outer edges of the camp, their bows strung and ready in case he made a break for it.

"Our Mother has been generous to us, these few years, with the tributes she has brought our way. In turn, we accept her bounties and flourish and grow. And afterwards, we give back tribute for her generosity," Valeria intoned, at the head of the altar. A wreath of flowers had been added atop her head, her red hair pulled up in a lose bun. The monkey, Henri sat at her side, with a chalice ready. He screeched at Flynn, laughing.

"Thank you, Mother, for our bounty, "the women chanted.

"Umm, can I just say something here," Flynn interrupted, with a wave of his hand.

Valeria ordered, "Silence!"

"Don't I get any last words?"

The women laughed, even Valeria chuckled along with her 'sisters'. "I see you have been taking advantage of our hospitality, Flynn, and trespassing where you don't belong. But don't worry; you won't meet the fate of previous guests. We bestow on you a greater honor. Henri was like you once, after he served his purpose, we rewarded him for his good service."

Flynn was confused, looking at the insane women in disbelief. "Wait a minute, Henri? The monkey?"

Henri screeched in confirmation.

"Are you fucking crazy? After I service you, you are going to turn me into a monkey?"

Hostility vibrated in the air, Valeria voiced her displeasure. "We will not tolerate your vulgarity."

Flynn smirked, "Well, excuse me lady, I am having trouble processing the fact that you are….you are crazy. All of you."

"What you think matters not. It had been decided." Valeria motioned to the monkey; he scrambled down from the altar, surprisingly agile with the chalice in hand.

"Why would you want to…I mean come on, this face, why would you want to change that? Hey, watch it!" Hands came up behind Flynn, a knee at his back, forcing him to kneel down. Another woman held a spear at his throat. "Drink," Valeria ordered.

Henri ever obedient was at eye level with the chalice, waiting to pour.

Flynn shut mouth and shook his head defiantly. Another woman stepped forward and squeezed his nose shut. He managed to hold his breath for a good four minutes before his started seeing spots. It wouldn't be a good idea for his escape if he were to pass out. He gasped for air and nearly choked as the hideous beast poured a warm, bitter liquid down his throat.

"Now dance. You have been blessed by the spirit of the Goddess."

Flynn coughed, nearly gagging on the disgusting drink. He looked at her incredulous, not sure if he had heard correctly. "What?"

"Dance."

"You must be joking." The woman behind gripped him and shoved him up into standing position. Flynn stumbled, "Sorry ladies, I don't dance."

"Rinda," Valeria motioned to the woman with the sharp spear.

Rinda prodded Flynn with her spear.

Flynn groaned in disgust and moved his feet in awkward shuffle and hop. He mumbled, "This is ridiculous."

"Faster."

Flynn retorted back, "I am slow dance kind of guy, sister. Sorry to disappoint."

Another prod from the spear, and Flynn was shuffling faster, hips wiggling side to side to avoid being poked by Rinda the spear prodder. The amount of giggling was enough to let him know what he must looked like. He might as well finish big. Flynn did a spin and shimmied hips faster. As his finishing move, he slapped his rear, "You ladies can kiss my ass."

Rinda was distracted and Flynn saw his chance, with a wink he stuck his foot out, tripping her. The spear prodder fell forward and he yanked the spear from her hand.

Gasps of shock surrounded him, Valeria yelled out, while he parried an incoming blow from a nearby woman. He ducked in time to avoid an arrow at the face; the tip grazed his ear instead.

Another block and Flynn knocked his attacker off balance. He ducked again as more arrows rained down. He found cover by a tree and saw an opening around the ring of women that would lead to his freedom. It was now or never. Flynn sprinted forward and ran as if the guards of Corona were in hot pursuit. On his way, he knocked over several women and kicked and shoved a nearby large barrel of what must have been rum. It rolled down the path leading to the bonfire. Valeria shrieked orders to her sisters. He headed east and prayed that he right, and the spare boat was still intact.

As he leaped up to jump over a fallen woman, a loud explosion propelled him forward into the night.

Guess it wasn't rum after all. Flynn Rider laughed in triumph as he ran.

_The Next Day…_

The early morning sun cast the most beautiful reflections in the water—Rapunzel was mesmerized by the shimmering light. She dipped her dangling feet into the water, enjoying the cool sensation on her feet and the ripples she caused as she danced her foot around. Her movements scared the fish away; Rapunzel smiled as she stilled to lure them to close again and repeat her game of foot tag.

She looked up when she heard hushed murmurs nearby; two fishermen were talking amongst themselves while looking at her. When Rapunzel smiled brightly at them and waved a hello, the men looked away. Her smile briefly faltered, she gotten similar reactions from the village people since entering the city of Corona. People were friendly, but cautious and they stared at her. Mostly Rapunzel thought it was because of her hair. It was always the hair. Currently, she had piled it behind her, but some ends had escaped and trailed into the water like strands of seaweeds.

Maximus snorted and shot a glare in the direction of fishermen. The stallion nudged another green apple in her direction. Rapunzel smiled as she took a bite from the apple, "Thank you, Maximus. It is such a lovely day, I never could have thought all this," pointing to ocean and the ships around her, "existed. Mother was wrong. The world is so beautiful. "

The horse tossed its head back in agreement.

"When do you think they will be back?" she wondered and kicked her foot down, causing a splash. Pascal and Eugene had been gone for a day and half now. Rapunzel nibbled on her bottom lip anxiously. When she was awoken by Maximus sniffing her hair the morning after their escape from the rushing waters of the dam, she found Eugene gone, along with Pascal. The satchel was still in its hiding place, which left her so confused. She had felt terrible for thinking that Eugene would have taken the satchel and left her just like Mother had said he would. But he didn't. And Pascal wouldn't leave her.

Rapunzel knew this because after her frantic searching around the campsite, she had found a pile of acorns where she had been sleeping. Some wouldn't think much of it, but she knew it was a sign. When Pascal first appeared in the tower, he wouldn't stay and if he did, he hid well. But he would leave her small gifts, like a leaf from one of the trees outside the tower or twig and pebble. And the next day he would return. As a child those had been the best gifts since they were from the outside and a secret from Mother.

Pascal always came back and so would Eugene.

Before they had set out for the kingdom, the horse had tried to take the satchel when he saw it in her hand, and after some scolding for his bad manners, they had come to an agreement that Maximus would find Eugene. Afterwards, he could chase the thief to its heart's content after he took her to see the floating lanterns. She thought of asking her friends at the Duckling for help, but Rapunzel didn't know how far away the pub was and it was urgent they catch Eugene's scent before the trail went cold.

The trail had ended at the shipping docks and so they waited. When night came and there was still no sign of the missing thief and chameleon, Rapunzel and Maximus retreated to the outskirts of the city to rest in a nearby glen.

The following morning they set out for the docks again. They stayed away from the city, since the palace guards had seen her with Eugene - both she and the horse stood out from the crowd. But what little she had seen of the city left her anxious to see more. Preparations for celebrations were ongoing for the lost princess of Corona and Rapunzel couldn't contain her excitement for the evening. It bubbled up inside her like the fizzy water Mother had hidden under her bed, along with chocolates.

Suddenly, Maximus turn his head sharply in the direction of a grand ship that had just docked a few moments ago. He nudged Rapunzel and pointed again to the ship. His snout took a deep sniff in the air and his eyes widened in recognition.

"What is it boy, is Eugene on the ship? "Rapunzel asked, but the rest of the sentence was nearly knocked out of her as Maximus pulled her from dress sleeve and pulled her in the direction of the ship. With quick reflexes, she grabbed the frying pan with one hand and the satchel with the other as the horse led her to a dark skinned woman talking to several scary looking men.

Maximus pointed with his hoof and pushed Rapunzel closer to the group of sailors.

"Excuse me," she said quietly, hooking the satchel across her body, "Ma'am?"

The woman seemed startled when she finally noticed the palace horse and Rapunzel. She cocked her head to side and her eyes caught sight of long trail of hair behind on the docks. The crew of ship also stared.

"Yes, who are you?" The woman's voice was a sweet one and Rapunzel thought, kind. Her coloring was so unique, a shade almost like burnet caramel. She was beautiful. Rapunzel would love to paint her portrait.

Rapunzel squared her shoulders back and pulled out the wanted ad with Eugene's picture on it. While they had waited at the shipping docks, she had tried to fix the nose on the image with a piece of charcoal she had found at the bottom of the bag. She was quite proud of it; the new improved image did Eugene justice. "My name is Rapunzel. I am looking for this man. He is my…frie—guide."

The woman laughed as she took the sheet of paper, "I am afraid, my dear, you will have to find another guide. He is no longer."

Rapunzel exclaimed, shaking her head. She would not cry. "What, that can't be! Where is he?"

"Dead maybe, if what they say it's true of that place. But the last I saw of that fool was when they both pitched off the plank. If he was not able to swim to safety, I do not know, nor do I care, "the woman confirmed, shrugging, she handed the flyer back to Rapunzel.

"But he might still be alive?" Hope lifted Rapunzel's spirits. "An island, oh, that was his dream." She looked up and smiled, "We have to go back for him."

The crew of men laughed along with the tall woman. "Did you hear this, men, she wants us to go back for the squiffy. No, dear, no such thing. He is as good as dead."

"No! He isn't. I know he isn't."

The woman smiled kindly at her, "Trust me, lovie, you are better off without the likes of Flynn Rider."

Rapunzel narrowed her eyes, her hold on the pan tightening. "His name is Eugene! And..He isn't all that bad, a little misguided. Besides, we had an arrangement. I made a promise and I never ever break my promise! And you will take me to him."

"Or what? What will you do me, child? And I wouldn't believe anything that man tells you. He's a thief and liar. Go home." The woman turned around, ending the conversation.

Rapunzel was so angry and she was never angry at people, well, except when Mother talked down to her. She was tired of being ordered around. "I am not a child. I am not going home. And you will take me to Eugene and Pascal and bring us back," she pointed the frying pan to emphasis the last point, "I know how to use this."

The Captain of the _Marigold_ grinned at challenge, "Oh well now, I know how to use this too," she pulled out her pistol and took aim.

Rapunzel gulped. "I don't want to make trouble. I just want them back. Please."

"Captain, we are drawing attention. We still need to make the drop," one the crew said nervously to the woman.

One the crew spoke out, a big tall man, taller than the woman, but bald like Hookhand took a step toward Rapunzel. "Do you know who are speaking to, girl? You would be wise to not order or threaten the Captain of the _Marigold_."

She fought the urge to shrink back. Maximus bared his teeth defensively beside her and cuffed his hoof on the dock board daring the man to come closer. The man backed away, eyeing the horse's teeth, his grip on the handle of his cutlass.

"Please, Captain," Rapunzel pleaded, lowering her pan, "It's important."

The captain studied the girl for a moment, telling the large man, "Stand down, John," and cursed under her breath. She lowered her weapon, "I like your spirit, Rapunzel. I don't know why I am doing this, but something tells me…I should help you. You remind me of… someone. You are lucky I choose to be merciful. This time."

Rapunzel jumped up joyfully, "Really! Thank you so much! Did you hear Maximus, we are going to find Eugene and Pascal."

Maximus gave a deep suffering sigh and an expression that said, "Do we have to?"

She giggled and nodded to her friend, "Yes."

"We can't bring along the horse." John protested, "The extra weight would slow us down.

Maximus gave the man an affronted snort and glared. Rapunzel moved close to her friend, her expression stubborn. The horse was going.

Theresa sighed, impatient with at the insolence she was had to put up with. "Aye, and who do you think you are speaking to, John? Don't question my judgment. We make the drop and we sail out before noon."

The little sail boat drifted against the current and sun blazed unmercifully on its passengers. The sail flapped as it tugged along the waters. The sea was being a fickle creature at times, the currents tossing the little row boat roughly about. Pascal had shifted into a sickly puce green color. Flynn was glad of the company in his misery. His own stomach had already heaved the rum and noxious potion that was forced down his throat by the band of crazy goddess women.

"Are you sure you don't see any fur? That wouldn't be a good look for me."

"You know, I should have just stuck with wanting a castle. Preferably one that is **not** on an island."

Pascal growled and coughed a little. The chameleon had hacked up whatever flies or fruits it had managed to find before escaping. His expression was stern and followed by a flick of his tongue.

Flynn rubbed his aching head, "Well, what if it was a small one? I can be humble."

Pascal shook his head and stared Flynn.

"Stop that. That's creepy. Ok, ok, I learned my lesson. Material wealth doesn't always bring happiness, yada, yada. But you sure can live in style," at the chameleon's pointed look, Flynn amended, "Okay so this trip was a bad example, but between you and I, what happened on that island, stays between us."

Flynn took a deep breath to settle his stomach and leaned back to stare up the sky. All his wounds, sun burns and bruises had pretty much turned into one big dull ache. Brooding wasn't his thing because whether he liked to admit or not, he failed Goldie and deep down he disappointed himself.

If they got back to Corona in time or at all, he would make it up her. Flynn wasn't going to run anymore, with the exception that he was being chased by the guards or vengeful goddess worshippers. He wouldn't be any good to Rapunzel if he was dead.

Something scaly crawled on his face, one foot poking his eye. Flynn picked up the creature with one and opened his eyes, "Hey buddy, easy on the fac—what," Pascal was a happy shade of orange and pointing outwards eagerly. Flynn moved out of his reclined pose and turned around to look.

A short distance away, the _Marigold_'s colors were flying high. Given that they parted on bad terms, Eugene wasn't worried though. He didn't know how she managed to win the captain of the Marigold over. But it had to be the most beautiful sight he had seen in the past day and half, for he could clearly see a long golden banner of hair flying along the ships sails.

Though it took him a while longer to see it clearly for what it was later that day. It was a moment that Eugene Fitzherbert would later remember as the start of his new dream. That missing piece he couldn't find since he didn't know it was missing to begin with. It clicked into place when he caught sight of the rapturous glow on Rapunzel's face as the first lanterns floated upwards into the evening sky. All this time, he had been chasing fool's gold and running from the real kind.

He called her Goldie on occasion for a reason, after all.

Fin


End file.
